Wings
by seaspn
Summary: My first attempt at short, one-shot story (and only my second story). Set during "Weekend at Bobby's"; so, spoilers for that episode. We know Dean went through 'two puke bags' during his flight across the Atlantic; but, what did it take for Sam to get his brother on the plane?


WINGS

"Are you friggin' kidding me?" Dean said as he ran his hand over his stubbled face and stared at his brother.

"What?" Sam asked, wondering what Dean had found to gripe about now. He had been trying to keep his aerophobic brother on an even keel ever since Bobby had asked them to fly to Scotland to find and take Crowley's bones hostage.

The last 36 hours had been a mad dash from Kenosha, Wisconsin, after burning the remains of the Lamia, to Chicago; and then coming up with fake passports, finding a last minute flight 'across the pond' and maxing out every credit card they had to come up with the outrageous cost of those last minute tickets.

"It's a 747, Sam! A 747, for crying out loud." Dean was nearly hyperventilating as he pointed out the window to large airplane they were waiting to board.

"Yeah, so what?" Sam said in his best calming voice. "It's just a plane, Dean. A little bit bigger, but just a plane. I thought you were okay with this."

"Well….. I was. But….. look at it, Sam. How can that thing possibly get off the ground, much less fly over the Atlantic Ocean?"

Noticing how fast he was breathing and a few beads of sweat forming on Dean's forehead, Sam knew he had to nip this panic attack in bud before airport security noticed his brother's behavior. "Dean. You need to calm down, right the fuck now."

Dean just stared like _a deer in the headlights_ at his brother, edging closer and closer to hyperventilating.

Sam took a step closer and got right in front of Dean's face. "Breathe. Dean, breathe." He started taking slow, deep breaths. "Come on, breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out." He kept that up until his brother was breathing almost normally, then he herded Dean over to a row of seats and sat him down.

"OK. You with me again?" And Dean nodded as he continued to concentrate on his breathing. Once Sam was sure he could handle it, Sam asked, "Why is a 747 any different than any other plane?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak a couple of times before he managed to get out anything. "Why did they have to make it look like a pregnant whale, or something?" He had turned in his chair to look out the window again. "I mean, look at it!"

Just then they announced the start of boarding for their flight. Dean started to jump up out of his seat, but Sam touched his brother's arm and shook his head. He knew with first class and special boarding needs travelers, they had at least 20 minutes to get Dean completely calmed down.

The youngest Winchester had been fascinated by the humongous flying machines since the first time he saw one when he was only 10. Hunting did not require much, or any really, knowledge of aerodynamics; so, neither his dad nor his brother could answer any of his questions about the marvel that was the Boeing 747. He had spent hours at the library learning about the magnificent machines.

Sam decided to approach this like a Hunt. First step, know what you're dealing with. Maybe if he could distract his brother with everything he knew about the Jumbo Jets he could keep him calm. "Dean, did you know the 747 has been in use since 1970?"

Dean turned away from the window to look at his brother. "Huh?"

"Yeah. And that they had made over one thousand of them by the time I first saw one in 1993?" Dean's breathing was normal, it was working. "You remember that summer I almost drove you and dad crazy asking about planes?"

"God. You were always asking questions, about everything back then; but, yeah I remember that." Dean smiled thinking about his brother's insatiable appetite for knowledge.

The loud-speaker announced they were ready to start normal boarding. As they called out row assignments, Sam glanced at their tickets. They were in the first group to board. Sam nodded to Dean and they both stood up and headed for the gate.

"What else did you learn about that summer?" Dean asked. He knew what his brother was trying to do; but he didn't care because it was working.

As they joined the line of passengers, Sam tried to remember all he had learned. "Well, there are lots of different configurations, but I think this is a 747-400." He really had no idea if it was a 400 or not, but that was the model he knew about. So he put on his best poker face and continued in his best _know-it-all_ (as Dean called it) demeanor. "Did you know they cost somewhere between 225 and 280 million dollars, depending on the configuration?"

Dean didn't reply, just nodded his head; but he was focusing on Sam and not the plane on the other side of the glass.

As they slowly crept forward toward the gate, Sam kept reciting facts. "The 747 has a range of 8300 miles and can cruise at a speed of 570 miles per hour." He turned to grin at his brother. "Puts the Impala to shame doesn't it?"

"You are riding in the trunk when we get back!" Dean replied with a frown to his brother's taunting.

Sam smiled, he knew his brother would defend his Baby. "I'm sorry. If it helps, the 747 only gets 0.2 miles per gallon. That makes your baby look like a Prius."

"But, if you compare the mpg for a 747, with at least half of its maximum passenger load, it gets better mileage per person than a car with a single passenger." A teenager in line in front of them turned to add.

"Yeah?" Sam replied.

Dean scowled at the young man. "You some kind of trivia geek like my brother?"

"Dean!" Sam chastised his brother as the kid's mother turned and added her evil eye stare.

"What?" Dean turned to Sam and ignored the boy and his mother, hoping they wouldn't be sitting anywhere near them on the plane.

"Should I continue?" Sam asked with a smirk.

Dean nodded while glaring at, well, everybody. "So, if it only gets two tenths of a mile per gallon, how big is the gas tank?"

"It can hold over 57 thousand gallons; you know, mostly in compartments in the wings."

"Holy crap."

"Yeah. Of course, that's a significant part of the weight of a loaded plane. An empty 747 weighs just under 200 tons, but fueled and loaded they can weigh almost 400 tons." Sam smiled at the boy in front of them as he turned and nodded in agreement as he finished reciting his facts. Then he turned to look at his brother and knew he should have been paying more attention; the deer in the headlights look was back.

"Tons! 400 tons, Sam? Really. I so did not want to know that!"

"Dean, it's OK." Sam stepped in front of his brother, both to block his view of the teenager, who had quickly turned back around at seeing Dean's face, and to help him control his breathing. "747s have flown over 42 billion nautical miles. That's equal to over a hundred thousand trips to the moon and back. And, 3.5 billion people have flown on some version of a 747. Dean, that's equal to over half of the world's population."

"Jeez, Sam." The smirk returning to his face, Dean added. "I know I've said this before; but you truly are a 'walking encyclopedia of weirdness'."

Sam just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. They had reached the gate and Sam showed the attendant their boarding passes. They walked down the ramp in relative quiet. When they reached the door to the plane, the line had backed up again. The teenager from before glanced around and noticed Dean was again behind him and turned back around quickly.

"So, you're into planes?" Sam leaned around and asked the boy.

The young man turned toward Sam, trying to avoid eye contact with the other Winchester. "Kind of. I just always want to know about the thing I'm travelling in; planes, subways, buses, cars."

"OK. Well, let's see how much you learned. Is the Jumbo jet longer nose to tail or have a wider wingspan?" Sam asked, and the boy broke into a smile.

"Longer, but just barely. The 747 is 231 feet long, with a wing span of 211 feet."

"Correct." Sam nodded to his fellow geek.

"OK. Now I have one for you." He peered around Sam towards Dean. "If you have an Impala, you must appreciate speed." Dean actually looked at the young man. "What are the take-off and landing speeds?"

"180 and 160 miles per hour, respectively." The boy beamed at Sam. "My turn. What is considered the minimum runway length for a fully loaded 747?"

The boy was unable to give his answer as his mother was tugging on his sleeve as she was going through the door. Sam stepped up to the door but then decided he should have Dean enter first, so he could keep him from bolting. They made their way down the long, right-sided aisle and found the seats.

Sam groaned when he saw his seat in the center section, thinking about his long legs being cramped into that narrow space for 9 ½ hours. Dean's big brother radar automatically had him looking to his younger brother at the sound. Dean took Sam's ticket and switched with his brother. He started climbing in first, leaving the aisle seat so Sam could stretch out his legs, he looked up to see the teenager they had been next to in line moving into the seat next to his from the left-sided aisle.

The boy looked shocked, Sam suspected Dean did as well, and the kid's mother looked like she was about to make a scene. Before she could say anything, Dean spoke to the boy. "So, how much runway does this bird need?"

The teenager's face lit up with relief. "Close to 10 thousand, 9740 feet. It could be much shorter with lighter loads; but still needs at least 6,000 feet."

"Hell, that's more than a mile; almost two for a loaded one." Dean was actually smiling at the young man, even after his mother glared at him for the swear word. Sam had forgotten how pleasant his brother could be, when he wanted to be. "You mentioned Impalas; you know about cars, too?"

"No, just Chevys, especially the Impala. My uncle has a Chevrolet dealership; and a beautiful, cherry red '65 Impala."

"That was the first year of the Fourth generation." And with that, Dean and the kid, Roger, both forgot all about 747s and flying.

They talked the entire time it took to get everyone seated. By the time they were backing away from the ramp, Dean was more relaxed then he had been since the phone call from Bobby. The plane taxied out onto the tarmac and the pilot announced they were only third in line for take-off.

The conversation had lagged as they sat waiting for their turn to take-off. As they heard the engines powering up and felt the plane start to roll forward, Sam leaned forward and asked Roger how he got so interested in transportation vehicles.

"Oh, I'm not really that interested in modes of transportation. I just want to know the likely hood of dying in a crash."

"Sonuvabitch." Dean muttered as he felt the front end lift off the ground.

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A.N. I live a few miles north SeaTac airport and enjoy watching the aircraft approach and take-off. 747s take so much longer to climb up into the sky, I swear I can hear them groaning and grunting. I have been fascinated by the huge machines since watching pilots practice flying them around Moses Lake, Washington. I don't like to fly but I am not afraid to fly and I have a basic understanding of modern jet flight. But, as I watched one of the monsters fight its way skyward; I wondered what Dean would think about them.


End file.
